


Adam and Nigel- Meet the Parents

by TaeAelin



Series: Adam and Nigel [3]
Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Affection, Banter, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Meet the Family, Spacedogs, Stargazing, True Love, and a tiny bit of Hannigram crossover!, holiday tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 02:17:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5521796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaeAelin/pseuds/TaeAelin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nigel isn’t exactly a family-get-together kind of guy. </p>
<p>But this is for Adam. </p>
<p>And... it’s only one dinner.</p>
<p>...How bad could it possibly be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adam and Nigel- Meet the Parents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hannigrammatic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannigrammatic/gifts).



> Surprise(-ish ^^;;) Spacedogs holiday silliness for the incredibly talented Hannigrammatic! <333 Wishing you the most fucking fantastic 2016, may it be filled with much mac&cheese, Romanian curse words, ALL THE MURDERLOVE... aaand none of the family gatherings like the one described below! 8D (well... MAYBE JUST A BIT ♥)

Nigel took the second-last drag of his twenty-third cigarette. And that was only the last hour. Hanging the stick out the window, his other hand gripped the steering wheel. A little tighter than usual.

“Nigel, you’ve been smoking an awful lot since we got on the interstate.” Adam was still fiddling with the DSLR camera in his lap. “Are you sure you’re not nervous about accidentally inhaling some country air?”

Squashing the butt into his used coffee cup, Nigel threw a smirk toward the passenger side. The camera was now in several pieces. Nigel had no doubt by the time they arrived at the holiday cabin, Adam could rewrite the manual.

“Well they  _do_  spray pesticides round here you know,” Nigel winked.

Adam frowned. “Not ones containing airborne pathogens-” he paused as Nigel raised a wry eyebrow. “Oh. You’re still nervous about meeting my extended family.”

Scooping the camera back into its carry-case, Adam reached a hand to Nigel’s lap. “And that’s alright. I would feel exactly the same way. Which is why it means so much to me, that you said yes.”

Nigel squinted all the more intensely at the road. “Well. You know me. Not exactly going to back down from a challenge.”

Adam tilted his head, his brow ever so slightly furrowed. “Nigel, Uncle Bob didn’t mean to issue you a  _challenge_ , it was more of an invitati-”

“ _Of course I said yes,_ ” Nigel interrupted, his words spilling out quicker than usual. “I mean…” he cleared his throat. “I would do anything for you.”

Even though Nigel was rather pointedly not looking at him, Adam smiled back. Then, realising Nigel still appeared quite tense, Adam trailed his hand from Nigel’s knee gently over the rest of his leg.

“Hey,” Nigel laughed, risking a glance downward as Adam’s fingers found his zipper. “We’re still speeding down the highway you know.”

“Oh, I know.” Adam loosened his seatbelt enough to manoeuvrer himself a good deal closer. “Which is why it would be best if you kept your eyes on the road, please.”

-

By the time Nigel stepped out of the vehicle, his legs still a bit wobbly even several cigarettes later, Adam was already halfway to the pinewood porch, suitcases in hand. Sprinting after, Nigel caught up in time to hoist both from Adam’s grasp.

“Quit making me look bad,” he grinned.

Turning back to the drive, Nigel nearly dropped the luggage when he saw a man striding toward them, arms spread wide. He looked almost exactly… like Robert De’Niro.

“Uncle Bob!” Rushing into the embrace, Adam’s whole face seemed to come alight. “This is him! This is Nigel!”

Nigel stood very still, surveying the man up and down whilst Uncle Bob did the same. Late-fifties, he guessed. Maybe edging into sixties, but obviously kept fit. Outdoorsy, probably tied more than his fair share of scout-knots. But there was something businesslike about him too. Clearly at home in the city. Nigel stared into his eyes. Surprised, he saw nothing beyond his own reflection.

“Much obliged to finally meet you, Nigel.” They shook hands, Nigel’s smarting from the unnecessary firmness of the gesture. He suspected the same was true the other way. “Bit of a smoker, are you?”

Shrugging, Nigel un-crumpled the near-finished packet, fishing out a lighter too. He wasn’t quite sure the Romanian brand was to everybody’s taste, but, try anything once…

“Oh no, no.” Uncle Bob chuckled. “I ask because I used to work as a surgeon. Lung surgery, throat surgery, you name it. I hope you don’t mind if I ask that you leave it off for the weekend. Just while you’re under my roof, of course.”

Gritting his face to a smile, Nigel gathered Uncle Bob’s roof also included the several acres of wood to either side of it. “Sure. Why not.”

With a warm smile, Uncle Bob accepted the cigarettes, holding out his hand for the lighter too. Swallowing a scowl, Nigel did his best to remember he had at least three spares in the car.

“Excellent. I’ll let Adam get you both settled then.” He tapped the side of his nose. “Got a roast to keep an eye on.”

With a last cuff to Adam’s shoulder, the man jogged back up to the log cabin, leaving the front door open for them to follow. Adam nudged Nigel’s waist.

“See. I  _knew_  you’d get on.”

“He’s flushing my damn smokes down the toilet as we speak,” Nigel muttered, the encounter sinking in like one too many shots.

“He’s just concerned for your health,” Adam giggled, taking the opportunity to grab one of the suitcases while Nigel was preoccupied.

Seeing Adam trying his best to look like it wasn’t heavy, Nigel couldn’t help soften.

“You know what I still can’t believe? That you actually have an uncle called  _Uncle Bob_.”

Adam stopped, turning around with a rather large smile on his face.

“And this is coming from someone whose best friend’s actual legal name is  _Darko_.”

Smirking, Nigel followed him up the front steps.

-

By the time Adam had shown Nigel his room, located almost as far from Adam’s as the dimensions of the house possibly allowed, Nigel’s mood had thoroughly deteriorated.

“He does know we’re  _fucking_   _living together_ , right?”

“Oh yes, of course.” Adam unpacked the last of Nigel’s gifts for his family, confiscating several cigars and bottles of liquor that he didn’t remember seeing going in. “Uncle Bob just wants to make sure you have your own space. The bed in my room’s only a single. You’ll be far more comfortable in here.”

Glancing at the various stag-heads and other wildlife adorning the walls of the den, Nigel couldn’t help feel he’d be more comfortable without a stuffed menagerie watching his every move. Lifting an awkward-looking racoon from his bedside, he decided the empty closet might be a better home for it for the next twenty-four hours.

“Ah. Admiring my little hobby I see.” Slamming the closet door shut, Nigel whipped around to see Adam’s uncle in the doorway. “Ever tried your hand at hunting, Nigel?”

“Not hunting,” Nigel started, trying to keep his tone below hopeful. “But I can shoot? If you’d ever like to…”

Nigel opened his palms in what he hoped was a friendly gesture. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. The three of them, some whiskey, a couple of long-range rifles...

Bob however, was shaking his head.

“I see. Well, these animals were all collected by a ranger friend of mine. Road kill. I wouldn’t dream of keeping guns in the house.” Bob frowned. Nigel’s shoulders sank. “Did you know that over 76% of firearm-related injuries in America every year, are simply due to household accidents?”

“I… did not.” Nigel tried very hard not to look at his suitcase, and several other items he wished he hadn’t packed.

“Oh, Nigel’s very careful with all that,” Adam piped up, giving Nigel’s hand a squeeze. “Nigel said the trick is not to carry a round in the chamber, unless the gun has an automatic firing-pin block or inertial firing pin.”

Gripping Adam’s hand back rather firmly, Nigel held his breath as the crease at Uncle Bob’s forehead became more like a ravine.

“Did he now? Well. That’s very interesting information, Nigel. Very useful for anyone thinking of investing in deadly arms, I’m sure.”

All too aware of the ten pairs of taxidermied eyes staring back at them, Nigel shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Just common knowledge. In…” he coughed, glancing around for inspiration. “…Romania.”

“Mm.” Bob looked fairly unmoved. “Well, that’ll be dinner-o-clock. Adam, feel like being the first to guess this year’s secret gravy ingredient?”

“Definitely!” Adam couldn’t scramble toward the kitchen with more enthusiasm.

“My vote’s for essence of jerked,” Nigel muttered under his breath. The stuffed animals appreciated it, at least.

-

There were over thirty members of the extended Raki family sitting around Uncle Bob’s dining table that evening, all pleasant, polite and good-humoured. And yet somehow, Nigel still ended up sitting right next to Uncle Bob. And the seat on his other side was empty. Nigel stared at his sliced pork like he had a vendetta against it.

“So, what do you do for a living, Nigel?”

Uncle Bob sawed into his grilled asparagus with gusto. He was, as Nigel had discovered after presenting him with a gift of steak knives, a vegetarian.

“Small business owner.” Nigel gave a tight grimace, trying to chew his food a little quicker. It didn’t seem to be going down. Adam beamed at them across the table.

“Nigel’s just being modest. He actually co-owns one of the largest superclubs in Bucharest!”

“The hospitality industry, I see.” Uncle Bob’s mouth had turned down a fraction. Nigel didn’t think it was a good sign. “And how are the returns on that, what with the recent dip in the European tourism industry?”

Nigel managed to swallow the mouthful, his eyes watering from the effort. “Still turning a decent profit. We’re popular with the locals, too.”

Uncle Bob gave an unreadable nod, his gaze sliding to a shadowed figure over Nigel’s shoulder. “Ah, just in time! The weather didn’t stop you then!”

As Nigel tried to peer at the newly arrived guest, Adam took the opportunity to catch his attention across the table. “My cousin, Will. You’ll like him.”

Removing several jackets and a woollen beanie, Will gave a slow smile. “It very nearly did.” Gently pulling the chair out, he sat down next to Nigel. “But luckily, I’ve made it through worse.”

Mid-way through a gulp of wine, Nigel almost choked. Uncle Bob thumped him squarely between the shoulder blades, a little harder than necessary.

“Your cousin?” Nigel spluttered at Adam across the table, grabbing a napkin. “This is your cousin?”

“Yes. On the Graham side, once removed. So technically, my second-cousin.”

“Although if anyone’s asking, we generally pretend we were both adopted.” Will threw the slightest of winks toward Uncle Bob, causing Adam to grin in delight.

Nigel stared from Will to Adam in disbelief. “Are you sure you weren’t fucking separated at birth?”

Will gave a fond laugh, then raked his hand through his hair, pulling the curls further over his forehead. “Maybe if I walked around looking like  _this_.” He made a show of not being able to see through the mop of hair.

Laughing, Adam reached for Will’s glasses. “Or if I walked around looking like  _this_.” Adam squinted through the frames, his face set to his deepest, darkest, most troubled expression.

Uncle Bob stared from one to the other, completely blank. “I don’t see it.”

Throwing back the rest of the wine, Nigel was at least glad Will’s arrival had diverted Bob’s attention from his livelihood. Trying to take the initiative, he deliberately faced himself to the newcomer.

“So. Will, is it? You… don’t live close to here, then?”

One corner of Will’s mouth twitched upwards, Nigel imagined somewhat sadly. But it was hard to tell. “No. I used to. But tonight I’m just passing through.”

“Will used to work over in Wolf Trap,” Adam nodded, his cheeks still pink from all the excitement. “Consulting as a criminal profiler. For the FBI.”

His hand halfway to the potato salad, Nigel froze. Then stood to his feet rather abruptly. “Excuse me a moment.”

His footsteps echoing down the stairs to the den, Nigel had never been happier to lock himself in a room full of dead things in his life. His pulse still racing, he fumbled with the side-zip of the suitcase, pulling out the only cigarettes Adam hadn’t yet stumbled across. Pinching two between his lips, he strode for the dusty window, wrenching at the hinges.

Locked from the outside.

Cursing, Nigel snapped open his toiletries bag instead, his last supply of whiskey nestled between his toothbrush and razor. It was a bit warm, but to hell with it. The flask was almost finished by the time Darko answered his phone.

“You do realise it’s 5am in the morning here, asshole?”

“Since when do you go to bed when you can still stand?”

There was a faint flutter of voices in the background. Darko chuckled. “Since I acquired company. So this better be good.”

“Need some background intel. No fucking questions.”

Nigel could hear the rustle of bedcovers. “Now? What the fuck, Nigel? I thought you were off playing happy families in some back-country log cabin?”

“I am!” Nigel hissed, glancing at the door. “I also just happen to be playing happy families with a goddamn ex-FBI agent and the uncle-from hell, who I am fucking certain is a former spy! No surgeon would slice a roast pork that unevenly!”

There was a notable silence on the other end of the line, followed by Darko clearing his throat. “Nigel… the first time I realised I was in a serious relationship-”

“Just do it, Darko!” Nigel exploded. “I’m texting you their full names. God knows what they already have on us.”

He threw down the phone, the rest of the whiskey burning the back of his throat. Pacing around the den, he wished he might have eaten a little more first. Actually, a lot more. He definitely didn’t remember the hanging artefacts being quite so… animated. Stumbling out the door, Nigel could hear Adam laughing amongst the chatter from upstairs. The debate seemed to be about who would be up first for a game of celebrity heads.

Nigel took a deep breath. He had survived interrogations before, in far less friendly climates. He knew how to keep his mouth shut. And, if it came to it, he definitely knew how to make sure certain facts didn’t spread any further. He just didn’t know how to make it look… like Adam hadn’t shacked up with exactly that kind of guy.

Nigel looked toward the dining room. And waked straight out the back door.

-

When Adam finally spotted Nigel, slumped against a tree at the fringe of the forest, he was glad he had carried the blanket all the way after all.

Wellington boots crunching through the fallen pine branches, Adam smiled at Nigel’s stony stare. The majority of Nigel’s animosity was clearly directed toward the large knitted bundle in his arms, his sullen tone confirming it.

“What’s that for?”

“For you,” Adam replied, carefully stepping over a fallen log and settling down at Nigel’s side. “It’s freezing out here. And you’re shivering.”

Nigel frowned at his lap. He clearly hadn’t noticed. “How’d you know I was here anyway?”

Wrapping the blanket around Nigel’s chest, Adam wound it several layers thick. “Because…” he tucked in the corners under Nigel’s jaw “this is where I always used to come. When I… didn’t understand stuff.”

Realising his arms hand been firmly pinned to his sides, Nigel gave a low laugh, biting the edge of the material to unravel himself.

“Get under this with me,” he mumbled, folding Adam against him before pulling the blanket roughly back in place. “And what are you talking about? I thought this was your uncle’s holiday house.”

“It is,” Adam stated. “But it used to be both my uncle’s  _and_  my dad’s holiday house.”

“Right.” Nigel leant his head back on the tree behind. “Sorry. I should’ve-”

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” Adam said quickly. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Well…” Nigel gave a rueful smirk “…I did decide to come and sit in the woods, instead of returning to your annual family dinner.”

“Oh, I’ve done that plenty of times!” Adam sounded very sincere, if not slightly pleased. “Why do you think I knew to bring a blanket?”

Nigel nuzzled himself a little closer against the smaller man’s body. Maybe he was a bit cold, now that he thought about it. “So what did you do out here then? All those times, I mean.”

Twisting around, Adam threw a nod to the bed of pine needles beneath them. Following his lead, Nigel shuffled to lie on his back. Beneath the blanket, Adam wound his fingers through Nigel’s hand.

“I looked at the stars.” He glanced over. “Do you want to see?”

Nigel shifted his head, following Adam’s line of sight. And almost stopped breathing. The whole sky was splattered with twinkling lights, thousands more than he had ever seen in one place. It looked like the busiest city in the world, and all billions of miles away.

“I think I’ve had too much to drink,” Nigel muttered. “Sure as fuck didn’t look like that yesterday.”

Adam couldn’t help a grin. “Of course not. We were in New York yesterday. Light pollution dilutes the contrast between distant galaxies and the black of the sky. When it’s darker in your immediate surroundings…” he gestured to the silhouetted trees around them “…your eyes can adjust properly. And… see what’s been there the whole time.”

Nigel could hardly believe this was the same sky that hung over their Brooklyn apartment. Or his nightclub back in Bucharest. Suddenly, the group of relatives back at the log cabin didn’t seem quite so overwhelming. Adam’s fingers laced between his own, Nigel felt himself squeeze back.

“Do you think we might see a shooting star?”

“There’s no reason why we shouldn’t.” Adam beamed. “If we wait long enough.”

Nigel bit his lip, a strange rush of feeling pricking at his chest. Something sort of terrifying, and just the smallest bit nauseating. “And will you… wait long enough? With me? To see it?”

_Definitely too much to drink._

“Nigel.” Adam propped himself up on his elbow, his curls falling over Nigel’s face. “I would wait with you forever.”

-

Like too many evenings that started with wine and ended with whiskey, Nigel awoke to the sun stinging his eyes. He did, however, have a good deal more twigs sticking into his back than he was used to. Turning over, he saw Adam happily nestled in a patch of soft grass, sound as a baby. It made his headache feel a little better.

Gently positioning his arms under Adam’s shoulders and knees, Nigel lifted him to his chest, making sure the blanket didn’t fall out of place as he carried him to the house. Treading carefully over the porch, Nigel nudged the front door open as quietly as possible, softly making his way toward the den.

And straight into Uncle Bob’s path.

“Good morning Nigel. The spare mattress wasn’t to your taste, hm?”

Nigel tried a laugh. When Uncle Bob crossed his arms, he quickly turned it to a cough. Adam flicked open his eyes.

“Good morning, Adam.” Bob’s second greeting sounded far more pleasant.

“Good… morning?” Adam stared up at Nigel’s jaw, somewhat confused. Nigel pinched his mouth to a frown, deciding it was probably about the right time to lower Adam to the ground.

Uncle Bob clicked his tongue. “I was just commenting that you never know when the mood for a last-minute camp-out might strike.”

“Yes…” Adam tried his best not to yawn. On noticing Nigel staring toward the ground, he suddenly felt a lot less sleepy. “I mean… yes. It can. It struck last night, in fact.”

With Nigel and his uncle both staring at him, Adam decided to plough on whilst he still felt crazy enough to do so. “Because… you never exactly know when a meteoroid is going to enter the atmosphere, do you? It only takes a second for the little pieces of dust and rock to leave a visible path, and then they’re gone. And no one would have ever seen. So…” Adam nudged against Nigel’s sleeve “…I didn’t want to miss out. Even though we only saw one. Maybe we were the only two that saw it.”

For once, Uncle Bob didn’t have anything to add. And Nigel was looking just as amazed as when he actually  _saw_  the shooting star.

“Here,” Adam said, stepping toward the den. “I’ll help you get packed up.”

-

With both their suitcases firmly stowed in the trunk, several containers of leftovers wedged at his feet, Nigel finally allowed himself to breathe.

“Thank you for that, Adam.”

Adam turned the key in the ignition, giving a last thumbs-up to Uncle Bob over the steering wheel. He shot Nigel a quizzical smile. “For what?”

“For…” Nigel paused, offering a wary wave when Uncle Bob’s glare passed him over. “…everything.”

“That’s alright,” Adam said brightly, leaning over to kiss Nigel at the side of the mouth. “Your phone was ringing, by the way. While you were in the shower. I looked at the screen, I think it was Darko.”

_Darko._

Nigel had completely forgotten. Hastily unzipping his backpack, he plugged the charger into the dashboard, tapping his fingers at the cover while the screen glowed into life.

_7 missed calls._

That wasn’t like Darko. About to redial, a text message came through first.

_Ran the names. This Bob guy is clean. No stats, no connections. Really is just a former surgeon._

Nigel took a sip of coffee from Adam’s thermos, deleting all trace of the exchange from his inbox.

“Any interesting news?” Adam hummed.

Nigel cleared his throat, cheeks as warm as the drink. “Afraid not, sweetheart.”

The phone beeped again.  _Multimedia content in this message._

Frowning, Nigel hoped Darko hadn’t accidentally sent him any evidence of the rest of his night. Turning the volume down, he gingerly pressed the ‘open’ key.

_But check this out._

Scrolling down, Nigel wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. It seemed to be some kind of screenshot from the Interpol website, complete with ‘Most Wanted’ in obnoxious lettering at the top. He very nearly snapped the phone shut.

Until he saw the first photograph on the list.

“Holy fuck.” Nigel spat, motioning to Adam to pull over. “This guy looks exactly like your cousin!”

Stopping the car, Adam calmly glanced at Nigel’s phone screen, taking in the mug shot. “Oh, yes. That’s Will. And his partner, too. It’s all a bit of a misunderstanding, they’re both really nice. I think that might have been why Uncle Bob was so hard on you, actually. He’s really protective of Cousin Will, and he said you reminded him of a cop!”

Zooming in on the photograph next to Will’s, Nigel’s mouth dropped open, his breath strangled in his throat. “Adam, what the fuck! What the actual factual fuck! Who’s  _this_  guy? Was he at the cabin?” Trying to release his grip on the phone, he realised his knuckles had turned white with the effort of holding it. “Can I… meet him?”

With a last glimpse at the familiar faces, Adam eased the car gently back into the road. “Yep, that’s Will’s partner alright. And no, he had to send his apologies, unfortunately.” With an affectionate smile, Adam set the GPS for home. “Maybe next year.”

-


End file.
